Behind closed doors

I am tired
I am weak
I am fragile

I sit in the corner
My weary head rests on bent bruised knees
The dark and musty room reflects how I feel inside
My bloodstained clothes are torn
I sob into my dress
As I sit
Behind closed doors

Salty tears sting my face
Pain sears through me
I tremble with fear
It hurts
I am critically wounded
I am not good enough
Hopeless and useless he mocks
I made him do this
It is my fault
My drained body and hands shake
I want to sleep

The door slams
Has he gone?
I can’t take any more
My battered body lays still
In the dark stale corner
Silence... glorious silence
He is gone

No more shouting, slapping and kicking
No more clenched fists forcefully contacting my face
Swollen and sore, I cry and scream
He gags my mouth with his fist
My jaw cracks
Pain surges through me
He doesn’t care
An uncontrollable rage, a furnace within himself
Angry eyes, empty, dark & dangerous.
Evil.

I want to move
My broken bones prevent
My frail shattered body screams in agony
Tortured, crimson blood pours from my wounds
My tattered clothes
Covered in the sticky red substance
My battered, bruised and damaged body
All tell my story
Of suffering
Of domestic abuse
Exposing me as a victim
Of what goes on behind closed doors

I lay down, too tired to sit
I feel my life draining from me
I close my eyes
I need to sleep

I am weak
I am tired
I am fragile
I am not scared any more
As my life ebbs away
I am happy to leave
Do not cry for me
I suffer no more

The angels have come to rescue me